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Jun. 14th, 2021 05:41 pmThis is an easier place to have these thoughts than Tumblr or Twitter.
I've been wondering how I would feel when my dad died since 2007, when he had his stroke. There have been several close calls over the years, but somehow I never really thought it would be as quick as "he just passed away in front of the TV one day in May."
More than 3 weeks later, with the initial chaos and shock out of the way, I'm still not sure just what the fuck I'm feeling. Mostly right now, it's just ... numb, I think. My life is back to normal, as normal as it has been since March of last year. I'm in my condo, working during the day, playing video games at night. I talk to people on Discord, read the internet, watch Twitch streams. The only thing that's different is that no one calls me on the dot of 5pm every night anymore. And that strikes me every day - I'd frequently have these thoughts in the afternoon, "oh, I shouldn't fire up FFXIV yet, Dad will call soon." But he's not going to, not anymore.
It feels weird to live normally. It makes me feel guilty. It makes me feel guilty for just being relieved that I can live my normal life.
Four weeks ago, during FFXIV Fanfest - which seems like ten years ago now - when they announced the release date for Endwalker, I'd messaged Elena to tell her it looked like I wasn't going to make it to Germany for another year. Thanksgiving week would be Endwalker week now, and I couldn't go another year without seeing my dad at any holidays whatsoever. Three weeks ago, when I was sitting in the middle of a half-packed apartment, I messaged her again to be like "... so, is the Christmas in Germany offer still open?"
Once upon a time - back in 2007 - I promised myself that my first Christmas alone would be spent somewhere warm, by myself, ignoring the existence of the entire holiday. But now that the time has come, spending Christmas playing video games with friends in another country sounds better.
I feel guilty for being excited that I finally get to go visit Elena.
I feel guilty that I don't feel worse. But I've been slowly, incrementally preparing myself for this moment for 14 years. And I feel guilty for that, knowing that it made me pull away from him even more than I otherwise would have, that knowledge that it would someday be just me all by myself. And fuck knows I'm grieving. I miss him. I miss the Dad that existed before Susan died. I miss the Dad that was starting to shake off the worst of the grief at Christmas 2006. I miss the Dad who was so excited to see me when I arrived for any visit. I miss the Dad that looked me in the eye at Christmas 2018 and thanked me for saving his life, even if he gave me the worst time for the whole year for "guilt tripping" him into going into assisted living.
I don't miss the Dad who had pledged his allegiance to Fox News and Glenn Beck and goddamned Donald Trump. I don't miss the Dad who cried and made me feel like shit every time I left from a visit, even 20+ years after I moved away. I don't miss the Dad whose only real care when I came out to him - in the middle of a political argument, which to be fair wasn't the best time to do it, but I was fucking done at the time - is that I once "yelled" at Susan for asking if I was a lesbian. (One, I didn't yell, she asked, I answered, and two, not a lesbian, bisexual.)
I feel guilty that I don't miss all of him.
I'm glad, for his sake and for mine, that he died at home, in his little apartment, in front of the TV. I'm glad we didn't have to go through yet another long hospitalization, or argument about assisted living, or financial panic because he couldn't afford any of it. And yet I feel guilty that he died alone, and probably at least a day before anyone came to find him. But that was his choice, wasn't it?
I feel guilty for not being there. And relieved. And guilty again.
I'm so numb. Life shouldn't be this normal. Dad's gone, and I'm alone. Not really - I have Alex, and so many friends, god how did I make so many amazing friends? - but in a real sense, I am alone. There's no immediate family anymore, it's just me. No Mom. No Dad. No Susan. Just Jaime. And that's a weird feeling.
How am I supposed to feel right now?
I've been wondering how I would feel when my dad died since 2007, when he had his stroke. There have been several close calls over the years, but somehow I never really thought it would be as quick as "he just passed away in front of the TV one day in May."
More than 3 weeks later, with the initial chaos and shock out of the way, I'm still not sure just what the fuck I'm feeling. Mostly right now, it's just ... numb, I think. My life is back to normal, as normal as it has been since March of last year. I'm in my condo, working during the day, playing video games at night. I talk to people on Discord, read the internet, watch Twitch streams. The only thing that's different is that no one calls me on the dot of 5pm every night anymore. And that strikes me every day - I'd frequently have these thoughts in the afternoon, "oh, I shouldn't fire up FFXIV yet, Dad will call soon." But he's not going to, not anymore.
It feels weird to live normally. It makes me feel guilty. It makes me feel guilty for just being relieved that I can live my normal life.
Four weeks ago, during FFXIV Fanfest - which seems like ten years ago now - when they announced the release date for Endwalker, I'd messaged Elena to tell her it looked like I wasn't going to make it to Germany for another year. Thanksgiving week would be Endwalker week now, and I couldn't go another year without seeing my dad at any holidays whatsoever. Three weeks ago, when I was sitting in the middle of a half-packed apartment, I messaged her again to be like "... so, is the Christmas in Germany offer still open?"
Once upon a time - back in 2007 - I promised myself that my first Christmas alone would be spent somewhere warm, by myself, ignoring the existence of the entire holiday. But now that the time has come, spending Christmas playing video games with friends in another country sounds better.
I feel guilty for being excited that I finally get to go visit Elena.
I feel guilty that I don't feel worse. But I've been slowly, incrementally preparing myself for this moment for 14 years. And I feel guilty for that, knowing that it made me pull away from him even more than I otherwise would have, that knowledge that it would someday be just me all by myself. And fuck knows I'm grieving. I miss him. I miss the Dad that existed before Susan died. I miss the Dad that was starting to shake off the worst of the grief at Christmas 2006. I miss the Dad who was so excited to see me when I arrived for any visit. I miss the Dad that looked me in the eye at Christmas 2018 and thanked me for saving his life, even if he gave me the worst time for the whole year for "guilt tripping" him into going into assisted living.
I don't miss the Dad who had pledged his allegiance to Fox News and Glenn Beck and goddamned Donald Trump. I don't miss the Dad who cried and made me feel like shit every time I left from a visit, even 20+ years after I moved away. I don't miss the Dad whose only real care when I came out to him - in the middle of a political argument, which to be fair wasn't the best time to do it, but I was fucking done at the time - is that I once "yelled" at Susan for asking if I was a lesbian. (One, I didn't yell, she asked, I answered, and two, not a lesbian, bisexual.)
I feel guilty that I don't miss all of him.
I'm glad, for his sake and for mine, that he died at home, in his little apartment, in front of the TV. I'm glad we didn't have to go through yet another long hospitalization, or argument about assisted living, or financial panic because he couldn't afford any of it. And yet I feel guilty that he died alone, and probably at least a day before anyone came to find him. But that was his choice, wasn't it?
I feel guilty for not being there. And relieved. And guilty again.
I'm so numb. Life shouldn't be this normal. Dad's gone, and I'm alone. Not really - I have Alex, and so many friends, god how did I make so many amazing friends? - but in a real sense, I am alone. There's no immediate family anymore, it's just me. No Mom. No Dad. No Susan. Just Jaime. And that's a weird feeling.
How am I supposed to feel right now?
